


Bring Me a Dream

by ladydragon76



Series: Kismet [12]
Category: Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-12
Updated: 2012-06-12
Packaged: 2017-11-07 13:27:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/431684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladydragon76/pseuds/ladydragon76
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Summary:</b> Blurr thinks he’s dreaming, but really it’s just Invisi!Mirage worshipping his thighs and… other parts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bring Me a Dream

**Author's Note:**

> **Verse:** IDW  
>  **Series:** Kismet  
>  **Rating:** NC-17  
>  **Characters:** Mirage/Blurr  
>  **Warnings:** Spoilers for RiD #5. Sticky.  
>  **Notes:** Because Hellkitty enabled me, as she is wont to do, and I can’t ever seem to resist (like I even try, right? LOL). [It was this picture](http://dirty-tf-secrets.tumblr.com/post/24816019633/i-want-to-run-my-hands-in-and-across-blurrs) that started it, for those that are curious. And I tried really hard not to make this Kismet just to have them different, but I think it is anyway. *surrenders to muse*

It was late and Blurr had sent both the mechs he’d hired as servers off for the night. He locked the door, shut off the lights, and limped his way back to the bar for some energon of his own.

Maccadam’s Old Oil House had been an instant hit. Blurr hadn’t thought it’d be so busy so fast when he’d taken Ironhide’s advice, but he was happy. For the first time in a _long_ time, he was genuinely happy. He smiled as his optics swept the darkened bar one last time, then he made his way up the back stairs to the living quarters.

The bar was looking great, but the small flat above it he was turning into a home was still a mess. It’d be nice in time, when he _had_ the time, but it wasn’t that much of a priority. The long wall of windows overlooking the street were cleaned of grime, the floor cleared of debris and the panels repaired. He only had one sofa that had seen better days, and a small conversation table, but they were clean too, and the sofa made for a more comfortable berth than anything he’d been recharging on in the last frag-all knew how many vorns.

He’d been standing and walking too much that day, the healing strut in his lower leg aching non-stop now that he had slowed down enough to feel it. Blurr flopped onto his sofa-come-berth, aching leg kicked up to rest along the back. He threw one arm over his head to hang off the arm of the sofa, and sipped at the high grade. He’d need to remember to thank Sideswipe for all the recipes he’d given him. He was still practicing with most of them, and some of the fancier drinks required more refinement and time to brew, but even that was going well so far.

Blurr sighed, content and the good kind of exhausted. He finished his energon, setting the small tumbler on the nearby table, then stretched, groaning a little as tight cables pulled. He relaxed and lay sprawled, letting recharge’s dark velvet hands begin to tug him down.

The dream began by blending into reality. Blurr still lay, one leg up, the other foot on the floor, in the serene quiet of his lounge. A delicate touch to his foot gained form as a gentle hand. Fingers slid deftly into his ankle joint, a thumb pressing and rubbing up the tight cabling. A caress along the gears. The touch wandered up until it reached his knee.

Weight sank into the sofa, a warmth that hadn’t been there before just barely felt. Blurr pried one optic open to look. It felt so real, but there was nothing there. He sighed, shifting a little, and bringing the foot on the floor up. The touch at his knee flowed down to guide.

He was already asleep. Had to be. There was no one there, but he could feel them. _Been too long,_ he thought, sighing as his optic shut.

Slag it. Why not enjoy it? What dreams were for, right?

He must have come up a little from all the thinking because the touch had stilled. The warmth of one hand rested on Blurr’s shin, waiting for him to resettle.

That warm hand slowly caressed its way to his knee, another settling feather-light on his healing leg, just above the ankle. Blurr hummed softly, flexing his foot. Unseen fingers delved into his joints. The ankle was massaged, cables worked until Blurr purred and heat tingled up his leg. The back of his knee received light, ghosting touches, making him gasp as the gears were teased.

Time stretched out, and Blurr floated. Each smooth stroke was just coy enough to stoke the tingling into a true flame of arousal.

The phantom hands moved up together, fingers curling over the lateral wing flares, then palms flat, pushing lightly over the vents of Blurr’s thighs. The edges were traced with a delicate touch that made him shiver. Each slat was treated to the same slow strokes, then the fingers pushed in. Sensitive components, rarely touched, were caressed.

Blurr moaned low in his throat as pleasure burned up his thighs and directly across his interface array. A warm gust of air drifted over his right thigh, then something slick and warm and flexible pressed in. Blurr whimpered as each slat was licked. Soft lips followed, just there, then kissing.

Blurr cried out as teeth scraped over the thin metal. He shifted, the fingers still playing with his other leg sliding deeper. His panel clicked loud even over the sounds of his vents, and for a moment, Blurr thought he’d heard someone give a low satisfied purr.

The warm mouth trailed up his thigh, fingers still plucking at the vents. Blurr’s hips squirmed, spike extending as he panted. He knotted his fingers together over his head, not wanting to break the dream by touching what wasn’t really there.

The slow, hot lick across Blurr’s valve almost broke his resolve. His ankles flexed in restless need, soft sounds escaping with each breath. Nibbling little kisses went up the length of his spike, hot mouth sliding sideways back down. Blurr whined, hips lifting. He clutched at the arm of the couch, trying to will his ghostly lover to just get on with it.

When that failed, he turned to whispering hungry pleas. One hand came down, Blurr unable to resist trying to guide any longer. Heat closed over his spike, and he ended up grasping at the sofa back with a sharp cry. His respiration hitched, the fingers threaded into his thigh vents keeping him from doing more than flexing his hips in short desperate thrusts.

Blurr was granted mercy, his spike worked over thoroughly by a talented mouth. Nodes were stroked firmly, a lithe tongue shimmying back and forth over a particularly sensitive spot. He gasped, the darkness around him filled with the sounds of rising ecstasy. Blurr was taken deep, sucked hard, and finally catapulted over the edge.

His own scream still ringing in his audials, Blurr stared into the pattern of light and shadow cast across his ceiling. His vents heaved, body still shuddering with aftershocks. It was then that Blurr realized he was awake.

He was _awake_ , and could still feel that hot mouth sliding up in one last, long, slow, blissful caress.

Blurr smirked as the air between his sprawled thighs shimmered. “Well, hello,” he purred. “Been a _long_ time since you’ve done that.”

Mirage smiled as his form coalesced. “Quite overdue.” He licked his lips, then crawled up over Blurr. “I am sorry I have been hidden away so long.”

Blurr’s smirk softened to a smile, and he pulled Mirage down against him. “Yes. I’m distraught by this. Make it up to me. Now, preferably.”

Mirage chuckled, called Blurr a brat, then set about celebrating their reunion properly.


End file.
